I chose a random window seat and this is what I found. Kissing Poughkeepsie goodbye, for now.
somewhere a finger is twitching
a knuckle it cracks in the dark
a worm in somebody’s birthday cake
flicks a lighter to spark
or flips the page of a journal
or probes a needle with thread
somewhere a finger is surely twitching
it does not sleep when it’s dead
a doorknob turns in limbo
a cuticle bites itself
the climbing flesh it grips the edge
of some unearthly bookshelf
somewhere a finger is twitching
or tuning electric guitars
the alien hand will never rest
it will tuck you into bed
Tomorrow I take to my travels again. So often do I embrace the in-between.
What pang
Is permanent with man? From the highest
As from the vilest thing of every day
He learns to wean himself. For the strong hours
Conquer him.
—Death of Wallenstein, Act V. Scene I. (Coleridge’s translation)
#crazyoldcatlady
It’s raining and I’m waiting for a jazz concert. Perfect.
#objectrelations
Elevator tile floor
Another reason why I love my school. This is an actual piece of correspondence written by Emily Dickinson encased within a glass display in the library. #sarahlawrence, #emilydickinson
I fear I am somewhat delayed in this transmission but at any rate this was the view of the blizzard outside my window last weekend. I have in no way altered the colors. So surreal.
